Thursday, December 8, 2011

DOES THIS MAKE YOU FEEL SAFE?

It was a weekday morning at the Sunset Transit Center. I took the steps from the boarding platform to street level two at a time, slowed to a walk and then slowed again when I saw all the cops. Three stood on the steps to the bridge over Highway 26, watching some other cops. The interesting activity was taking place a few paces away from the stairway at the entrance to the parking garage.

Two cops were standing behind a man seated on the concrete. The man's legs were stuck straight out in front of him. His hands were cuffed behind his back. There was a cop hand on each shoulder and a cop knee on each side of his back. In other words, a perpetrator was being immobilized as part of an arrest. He must have resisted arrest, or why the heavy force? But he looked
about as strong as your average wasted junkie and positively breakable
under the control of the two cops.

Another cop, squatting in front of the perp, was going through one of those filmy white supermarket bags that biodegrade while you wait. A transparent baggy lay on the concrete nearby. From 10 yards away it looked to contain a handful or two of white powder.

Another cop was snapping pictures of the perp, the bag, the scene. He was framing the shots with painstaking care.

A Beaverton police van marked with the word "Sergeant" was parked nearby.

I had stopped near the cops on the bridge. Now I walked softly around the arrest area. I think it's good to let cops making an arrest know that a citizen is watching. Keeps them honest. I don't want a cop getting nervous or adding my name to a report, though, so without acting creepy, I crept over to a vantage point from where I could see the bad guy's face.

He was a wiry young man with Mediterranean features and long, long black hair. Terrorist material, if you're profiling, except that all the terror here had been struck into his heart and showed on his face.

I had seen what there was to see and restarted the trek towards my job when yet another cop strode from the vicinity of the van over to the alleged criminal. He wore blue latex gloves, a fashion statement, I suddenly noticed, being made by all the cops. His busy blue fingers fiddled with an arrangement of fabric or plastic -- something that unfolded and which he fitted over the perpetrator's head.

Before I could angle for a better look, a helmet followed the collar. The blue fingers fiddled some more, attaching the one to the other.

The helmet encased the prisoner's head completely, clearly meant for restraint, not protection, a little prison cell in itself. It had the gracious styling of a medieval torture device. The man's eyes peeked out, an untrained astronaut.

About Me

ABOUT ME
Since you're dying to know:
I worked as a reader and then as story editor for ITC, a (defunct) TV movie company in Studio City, California.
I wrote a few film reviews that Urb magazine published when it was just getting off the ground.
I've completed a half-dozen film scripts; number seven is an eco-thriller with a spiritual theme that will send multitudes into transports of ecstasy.
I make a living as a business writer in the dynamic and unpredictable field of insurance.
I've been lucky enough to contribute to the pocket-size Free Fun Guides. If you live in the populous parts of Southern California, or in the Bay Area, Portland, Seattle or New York, you should get one and never leave home without it. Web site: www.freefunguides.com
I live in Portland, Oregon with my wife and daughter, where we long for an occasional sunbreak and I drink the world's best coffee, usually black.